


thats not a man, thats a tree

by englishbooty



Series: faeries, secrets, and violence [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Fluff, M/M, Past Abuse, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Relationships, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 12:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17662742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishbooty/pseuds/englishbooty
Summary: The world is dark.It's dark and dull, and you don't want to live in it anymore.That is, until you find a man who is hardly a man at all, and the world suddenly turns brighter, even though the two of you are as fucked up as can be.





	thats not a man, thats a tree

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summaries, yo.  
> Hopefully the fic is better than that crummy thing. They like barely even go together.
> 
> Tumblr: englishbooty   
> I just got it active again, so please go follow me and leave me stuff! I'd really appreciate it ◠‿◠

“Perfect.”

You stop in the middle of the forest to look at a tree. No, the tree. The perfect tree for you to end on your pathetic life on.

It's the biggest one you've seen so far, and you believe it to be a Maple Tree by the look of its leaves and the intoxicating aroma that is coming from it. You didn't think that maple trees smelled like maple syrup, in fact, you thought that they simply gave it out, but you must've been wrong because this one definitely does, and you wish that you would've brought a spout so that you could taste the delicious maple syrup that beckons you from underneath the hard, wooden exterior of the tree, but you didn't, so you press on with the plan that you originally came here to put into motion as quickly as possible.

Climbing the tree isn't as hard as you would've thought it to be from the ground. After climbing the first initial branches, the branches seem to to inch down to you due to what you guess is either the wind or your complete lack of sleep for the last two days. It has to be one of the two. You're not crazy, despite what your ex-boyfriend claimed. Clingy, annoying, and gross, definitely, but you're not crazy. You know that for a fact, so when you swear you see green eyes watching you from inside the tree, you blame it on the prior stated two things and climb faster and faster as if escaping from them. 

When you've reached a satisfactory height from the ground, you pull the light backpack off of your shoulders and place it into your lap. Only a few things sit inside of it, and you're extremely relieved when you see them. Carefully, as if it's the most precious jewel in the world, you take out a rope. It's already been tied into a perfect noose since you're always prepared, and now all that's left to do is tie it to the tree, wrap it tightly around your neck, and take a nice leap off this thick, sturdy branch with no hitting the ground in mind.

You smile a bit for the first time in days as you observe the surroundings. The forest really is beautiful, especially with the sun setting over the trees. Green and orange have always looked good together, they're very complementary. Too bad a good view won't change your mind about what you're about to do, but it's always good to go out in a beautiful way. You'll get to see the sunset one last time before the light leaves your eyes forever. 

You pet the rope like a dog and take a deep breath of the crisp air. It's nice. It's very nice, but it's not nice enough. Nothing is nice enough to make you stay in this miserable existence. Nothing is nice enough to make the bad things seem not as bad and the good things seem good again. Life isn’t as beautiful as this forest, and you're convinced it never will be. That's why you're doing this. That's why you have to do this because it's not getting better, and you don't think it ever will. Good things aren't for people like you, you remember, your smile slipping from your face as tears slip from your eyes. There's no better solution.

You throw the rope around your neck and make sure it's tight around your neck. There will be no slipping. There will be no hesitation. It will be instant, and you'll be gone. Gone and forgotten, like you once feared when you were young, gullible, and hopeful. Gone and forgotten, like you now want to be because anyone that knows you wishes they could forget you due to how terrible of a person you are.

You take off your shades, which are now wet from tears, and fold them gently, placing them into your backpack which you gently hang from a branch. Next, you find the end of the noose that isn't wrapped around your neck and tie it to the tree as tightly as you can. The tree seems to shake once you do, and you smile, patting the branch. “I'm not planning to hurt you. I'm planning to hurt myself.” The tree stops shaking after that, and you chuckle at yourself. God, maybe you are crazy because talking to trees and thinking they're reacting to you is fucking asinine.

Or maybe you're just looking for someone, anyone, fuck, anything to care for you, but even trees are the same. They only care for themselves.

You take a deep breath then, willing yourself not to cry anymore. You can do this. You're going to do this. Everything is going to be okay once you do. You'll never hurt again, and no one will ever have to deal with you again. It's a win-win for everyone.

When you stand on the branch, you stand with confidence and determination. Your arms stay by your sides, straight, as your hands curl into lazy fists. You will your shoulders to relax, and your eyes to close, and then slowly, slowly you lurch forward.

The wind pulls at you as if trying to carry you away from your own decisions, but the rope at your neck is strong and you feel it coming higher and higher up your neck as you fall more and more down, and it's just at your chin when you hear a loud creak and feel yourself stop falling.

Multiple branches loop around your limbs and lift you up so that the rope is no longer tight around your neck. You open your eyes in shock and fear. This is not what you expected, nor is it what you wanted. Have you died? Is this a dream?

The whole tree appears to have shifted, bending from where it is planted so that you're now facing the trunk of it. Slowly, you see the bark of it shift as eyes the color of clovers blink open and assess the situation. 

You're terrified, and whatever that thing is must know it because the branches move around you in something of an embrace, and you feel like a baby, small and safe in its mother's arms, but no, you can't do… this, whatever it is. Goddamnit, you're supposed to be dead. You weren't supposed to feel anything after the drop. Your neck was supposed to crack, your vision was supposed to go black, and your heart was supposed to stop, but none of that happened, at least, you don't think.

“What-” Your voice is shaky from fear and shock. “What are you?” You wheeze, and the branches shake as if in laughter.

“I am this tree.” The voice comes from all around you like an echo. It sounds hollow and husky, yet very soothing and warm. 

“You're a- you're a tree?” You blink because this must be a dream. This isn't possible. Trees can’t speak.

“Yes, but I can assure you that I am not just a normal tree, pet,” You bite off harsh rebuttals and let him, if he even is a him, continue to speak. “I am a part of the Folk, and this is just part of my form.”

The folk, for fucks sake, did you run into a Hollywood shooting?

You can't help the nervous laughter that comes bubbling out of you. You're crazy, you're really fucking bonkers. God, your ex was right. Everything he said was right, and it's bringing back tears that you don't bother to fight off. “Dave?” You say aloud because this can't be serious. You're being cradled by a fucking tree that stopped you from committing suicide, and Dave is a dick for wasting so many props on this and not telling you that you'd be in one of his shitty movies. “This isn't fucking cool. You can't post this shit without my consent, now let me the fuck down and throw a couple millions my way. Or, dont, it's not like I can take it to the grave where I was planning on going before you rudely interrupted, asshole.” 

“I don't know who this Dave is that you speak of.” The voice echoes again, and you have to laugh. This is so fucking stupid. “I saved you. I will not allow a human to die by my branches. It's not a death worthy for anyone. Even humans deserve a better death than suicide.”

“Most humans.” You scoff, and the eyes that you see in the tree flicker from nearly unreadable to full of pity. “I don't deserve much of anything but death. Any death. You wanna kill me, bro? Go right ahead. That's what the Folk do, right?” You laugh. “Sorry, I'm no virgin, but you should be able to still eat me or something, right? Do your fucking worst.”

“Do you know not what you say? You must watch your words around the Folk.”

“You think I care about that shit right now?” You grin, wiggling in the branches grasp. They're gentle yet firm, and if you were in a better state of mind, or at least back to your former self, you may be turned on. This whole situation is like weird hentai with tree branches instead of tentacles. “I don't. Actually, guess what? My name is Dirk Strider.” The tree shakes aggressively at that, and the eyes close as well. “What the fuck?” You voice as the tree starts shifting around you again. Your limbs are brought together as you're forced into the fetal position, but it's not bad. In fact, it feels amazing. Comforting, really, but not for long. 

The branches grow so that they're fully around you like a little room, and they're shaking bad, like something's happening, but you can't figure out what.

You have to bite your lip in order to silence a scream as the branches suddenly drop, protecting you as they hit the ground and uncoil around you like pedals from a flower’s center. A small, sharp branch flings out once you're safely on land to cut off the rope that was previously around your neck, and your hand darts up to rub where it had been, no mark there even though you thought that there would be.

You groan, shocked by the force and speed of the drop and really everything that's going on, and sit up. The tree- you notice that it’s no longer where it was. There's simply a hole where it used to be, but where could it have gone? You squeak in surprise as the branches around you start retracting from underneath you, and you turn around to see… a man, but certainly not a normal one.

He's tall, extremely tall. You'd guess by just looking at him that he's at least eight feet tall, and that's at least, while you're barely over six feet tall, six feet and two inches, precisely. He's also built. His shoulders are extremely broad, at least double the broadness of yours, and his chest is huge while his legs and arms are long and thick. He's a giant of a man, and you look down, and yes- He's a giant in that aspect, too.

You're so busy noticing how big and manly he is that you almost ignore all of the clearly not human things about him, like how his nose looks like it was carved by an artist completely out of wood, his lips look like they've been covered in red and orange shiny gloss, his cloves colored hair looks like what happens when you roll in a leaf pile and get tons of brown, autumn leaves tangled in it, his eyes are too sharp and bright green to be human, his shoulders are made of rough bark that peels up, his fingers and toes are twigs, his arms up to his elbows are softer bark less likely to harm, and his legs up to his knees are the same. The parts of him that are not wooden are brown, fleshy, and human. He has skin like yours, you're relieved to see, but darker and less harmed by razor blades and sharp nails. 

“What the fuck-” You say because what else are you supposed to say. “You were- You were a-”

The man- thing- faerie, in front of you laughs then. “A Maple Tree! I was, yes, and I still am!” He knocks on his bare chest, and it sounds like hollow wood even though its fleshy. Barely fleshy, he looks like he's been working out. “It's here in this glamoured up body of mine! Barely glamoured up body, anyway.” He clicks his tongue. “It's hard, you know!” He crosses his arms and pouts like a toddler as if you were judging him when really you're just tired, confused, and suicidal as shit, and god why is this happening to you- “Changing from a- well, I don’t know, rather large tree to something resembling a human body is rather taxing, but I suppose you wouldn't know, would you?”

Are you supposed to respond to that? 

You shake your head, still in shock, and fall flat onto your ass. You're suddenly very tired and very scared because you're talking to a faerie that you gave your name, and he hasn't done anything with it yet, and you don't know what he's thinking, but you wish he’d just eat you or something already because you don't want to fucking think anymore.

“Oh dear- Come here, pet, direct those beautiful orange eyes at me.” You look up at him again, and his eyes widen a bit. “I didn't know humans could have eyes like yours, firefly. You're a gorgeous one, aren't you?” He comes closer and touches your face, and you flinch back out of reflex. “My apologies. You must be frightened? Humans don't take well to faeries, not that I blame them really.”

“I'm not-” You wheeze out a laugh. “I'm not frightened.” You say, despite the anxiety tugging at your chest. “I'm confused and appalled. I came here to die, and suddenly the tree of which I'm attempting to hang myself on comes alive and saves me.” You shake your head. “I gave you my name. Aren't you going to do something with it? Kill me in some embarrassing way and use my blood to color your leaves red? Or my limbs to weave between your branches? I don't know, man. Do something.”

The faerie shifts on his wooden feet and rubs the back of his neck with his wooden palm and twig fingers. “Well,” You look at his mouth as he speaks and note that his tongue is brown and wet with what you assume is maple syrup while his teeth are brown and pointed like sharpened bark. “I don't fancy using people’s, faerie or human, names against them, nor do I kill them to color my leaves or… what was the other thing? Weave their limbs between my branches? What very cruel and imaginative things to say! I fear you may have a more faerie mind than I do, Dirk.”

“Wait. Hold up, you're not going to kill me?” You ask, and he shakes his head. “Use me?” He shakes his head again. “Release me?” He goes to shake his head and then stops, tilting it as if in confusion. “Are you going to leave me alone?” He shakes his head, and you groan. “Then what will you do?”

He grins, showing off the sharpened bark. “What will you do if I let you off here? Run off and attempt to kill yourself yet again? I can't allow that, firefly, I think I like you too much.”

“Like me too much?” You scoff, moving into a standing position. “You don't know me.”

“Of course I do.” He blinks, tilting his head and sneering a bit at you in what you think was supposed to be a smile, but faerie blood obviously runs strongly in him, and thus so does scarily beautiful smiles and sneers. “Your name is Dirk Strider.”

You shudder at the mention of your name through his glossed, sunset colored lips. “You're a human, but you're not content in your human lifestyle, yes?” Jake asks with the sneer still extremely present on his face. You dont think it’s a question really meant to be answered, but you give him one anyway because you're a prick.

“You could say that.”

“I could, but… is it correct?” He straightens up and suddenly looks unsure and… worried. “Could I ask why?”

“No.” You say, bristling and backing up. “That information is private.”

The faerie nods, looking off into the distance and rubbing the back of his neck again. You think he must be thinking because his eyes don't really look like he's focusing on much. You don't think he's paying attention to or even acknowledging you either. You could take out an iron dagger and stab him right now, and you don't think he'd do much because he's so lost in the zone.

After about five minutes of awkwardly standing around, you decide that you should probably try to make a break for it because you don't know what this guy is planning, but you don't think it's death.

You look around for anything you should grab. Your backpack is gone, but it didn't have anything in it except for a bit of water, the rope, your shades- crap. You want your shades. You take a few slow steps back towards the hole in which the tree used to stay and sneak a peek inside of it as the faerie continues to zone out. There's nothing inside the hole, so you look at back the faerie. He must've hidden it because he's definitely not wearing it- or- or is he?

You squint a bit at one of his twig fingers, and you see an orange ring. It's the only piece of ‘clothing’ on his entire body, which you don't even hate because this man is hung and fit, but it couldn't possibly be… your backpack, right? It couldn't get so small nor could it get morphed into a ring made of completely different materials. At least, not in so little time.

“Faerie.” You speak up, standing up straighter as if that does anything for you with his towering height. “Where's my backpack?”

The faerie flinches, and his eyes flicker over to yours curiously. “Backpack?” He looks around as if you didn't already do that. “AH- wait, you hung that up-” He twists the one orange ring that he's wearing, and it starts shimmering before breaking off onto the ground. Once all of the pieces are on the ground, they clump together again, start glowing, and form your obnoxiously orange, dirty backpack. “Sorry about that! Anything,” his  
voice goes a bit deeper, and his eyes begin to glow even brighter, you swear. “or anyone, that is on my branches that or whom doesn't fit in belongs to me.”

Your eyes widen a bit at that. “I don't belong to you.” You boldly speak, and he laughs. You must be hilarious today, or maybe he's just amused by your stupidity and humanity. 

“I know, firefly.” He purrs, his sharp eyes carving harsh, unsaid words into your skin. “You want to be free to  
fly about, but darling,” he steps forward as you step back, tilting his head again and grinning sadistically at you with his sharpened bark teeth. “what's the point of a firefly flying free when they don't show their light? They're hardly even a firefly, then, wouldn't you agree, Dirk Strider?”

You shudder again. Yeah, you agree. Actually, you get it too well. “What's your point? What're you trying to say?”

He pouts, looking down at his feet, which he swings like an anxious child. “I… I don't think I should very well let you go!” He says, pressing his two twig thumbs together and twirling them. You think he might be bipolar. Or, at the least, fucking insane. “I'd feel terribly guilty… I'm sure you're just going to find another way to off that pretty head of yours, firefly, and I… I won't allow it!” He looks up suddenly and leaps in front of you, grabbing your shoulders as you stare with widened eyes, going still underneath his hold. “Dirk Strider, you want so badly to be controlled or dead, so I'll do the former for you, but it'll only be for your benefit, I swear! Until you feel better, and I feel confident that you won’t stroll around here for a few minutes and throw yourself into the arms of a more aggressive faerie that won’t hesitate to take away your light.”

You stare in shock, eyes unblinking and limbs unmoving. You can't believe this is happening to you. This wasn't supposed to happen. You're at least twenty minutes past the time you were supposed to die, and it's so much. So much. You feel your breath begin to hitch in your chest, and the faerie’s grip loosens a bit on you. “Dirk?” He says, but you can barely hear. The only thing you're focused on is your heartbeat and breathing, which are both quickening and god, you can't handle this. You can't do this anymore. You're so tired.

“Uh- what-” You gather all your strength and whip back from the faerie, falling down and gripping your hair as tightly as you can. Why is this happening to you? What the hell is even going on anymore? Just when you thought you finally had everything under control, this faerie fuck comes out of nowhere and tries to act like it's going to protect you from yourself when all you wanted was to be left alone forever.

“Listen.” You say, your voice shaking along with your entire body. You don't look up to meet his eyes. You don't think you could if you tried. Instead, you focus on your orange converse that were a gift from your ex, worn and torn with age. “I don't know why you'd feel guilty if I die because you don't even know me. All you know is my name, and if you knew more… you wouldn’t feel so guilty.” You laugh bitterly, your words coming out fast. “I'm a bad person. A manipulator. I never do anything right, and I only ever think of myself, and I can't- I'm not like other people. Everything about me is twisted. My view on love, and friends, and god- everything. Everything. That's why I-” You shake your head, tears falling down your cheeks. “I came here to die.” You choke on the last word, wiping your tears away from your eyes with your dirt coated wrist. 

“Oh, pet.” You don't look up, but you can hear him moving closer, and before you can object, you're being picked up. Your eyes open in shock, and you look up to see his calm ones. “Calm down, firefly, you're getting so worked up.” 

His eyes are so beautiful. Bright, yet soft. 

You feel your eyes slipping close as he rocks you like a child, and before you know it, you're fast asleep  
in his arms.

-

When you wake up, you're in an unfamiliar brown bed surrounded by gossamer green curtains that barely block out the light, instead making it light green. You sit up, trying to remember just what went on last night, but you find you have no memory of it. You must've gotten blackout wasted last night, and you hope that you found yourself in the bed of someone who knows how to treat a one night stand. By that you mean, someone who isn't present or acts as if they're not present as you sneak out with your shoes in your hands and your hair a mess.

You bite your lip, moving to the edge of the bed and pushing back the beautiful curtains. There's a large bay window right by the bed, and you sneak a look out of it in order to try and determine where you are, but it's no help. All that's outside are maple trees and other beautiful nature scenery. God, what kind of rustic man did you fuck? Whomever it was, he must of been a bottom or a miracle worker because you don't feel the tiniest bit sore. In fact, you feel very well rested.

“You're awake, firefly.”

You stiffen, turning around to see- holy shit. Holy shit. What a man. Fuck, that's not even a man. That's a tree. No, wait, fuck. Is he actually a tree? Why does he have wood everywhere, is that bark?

You back up as your brain rushes to try and process everything that you're taking in right now. You can't help but feel a bit of deja vu, but why? You're sure that you've never seen this man before. How wasted were you?

“Now, now. Let's not get our branches in a bundle.” What the fuck kind of saying is that? “You can call me Jake. Do you remember anything at all from last night?”

You can call me Jake? Did you fuck a criminal on the run or something? “No. I don't, sorry.”

“Oh, it's not a problem!” He grins then, and your eyes widen at the sight of those teeth. If you can even call them that. Is this… a dream? A nightmare, maybe? “I'm sure you're mighty confused. Let's have a sit down, Dirk,” you fall back into the bay window seat involuntarily. “Are you hungry? I have- are you alright there? Let's forget the food for a minute. I'll explain, pet.”

He takes a deep sigh, and you force yourself to as well, trying to keep the anxiety and the confusion contained in your chest.

“This is my home, isn't it gorgeous? As much as you can currently see, anyway.” You nod because it is. It looks like the walls and floor are made entirely of wood, and the room is filled with natural lighting. The bed is carved of wood and the bedding is soft, and the green gossamer curtains are gorgeous. There's many wooden trinkets and quilts lying about, along with the occasional bowl or plate of fruit and other treats that make your mouth water and your stomach grumble with want. “You're here, I brought you here from… from where I found you.” He looks down and twiddles his twig thumbs in what you guess is a nervous manner. “You were trying to take your own life, so I saved you, and you- you gave me your name, and I… decided that…,” he looks up, meeting your eyes. “I wanted you.” Your eyes widen, and so does his. He quickly averts his gaze again. “I-” he clears his throat. “Want you. I… think you're very interesting, and we have… a lot in common, I think.” 

A moment passes, and you think you're supposed to reply, but you don't know with what. How does someone respond to something like that. “Who… who are you?” You say so softly that it's nearly a whisper. It's probably a stupid question, but he smiles sweetly nonetheless.

“Jake.” As he already said. What a stupid question to ask. You're such an idiot. “I'm….,” he sighs and stands, running his hand along the smoothened maple wall. “I'm this home. This wood, this tree, it's all connected to me.” You watch as his wooden hand sinks into the wall, becoming one with it. “I'm a faerie, if you couldn't already tell, and you… you gave me your name.” He pulls his hand out of the wall and turns to you with his bright, stinging eyes. “So, you're mine, Dirk Strider. You're mine… until,” he smiles sweetly again, but it looks scary this time. Like there's a hidden sneer behind it. “Until you get better. Until my branches no longer look like a place to hang your head. Until the world doesn't seem so dark, Dirk Strider, I will keep you until your light begins to once again shine as bright as I know it can go.” He touches your face, and you freeze. “With me, you will never be at harm to other people nor yourself. You are protected. You are mine. I will show you how bright life can be until your light is refilled, and you are happy again. I swear it.” 

You feel awfully dizzy with his words, and you believe that you would fall over if not for his comforting hand on your cheek keeping you up and steady. You nuzzle into it, eyes closing, and the last thing you see before you sleep are his bright eyes and silent smile. 

\--

“My firefly? Please come out. We can talk through this. You know I only did what I had to. You know I never meant to hurt you.”

You hide behind a thick tree and stare down at your bare feet. Months ago, you had orange converse, which you wore everyday, but now they've vanished, and you know why. Jake took them. He took everything of yours. Your human clothes, your memories, your dignity, your love. 

You scowl, tears filling up your eyes. “You tricked me.” You hiss out loudly. “All those months, Jake. All those months you took from me.” You fight for your voice to be strong. You can’t show him how weak you are. Not now, not anymore. “You told me we were alike in that we both hated who we were and are. We were supposed to better each other, but you lied!” 

“I can’t lie, Dirk. I hate who I am. I hate that I can’t give you precisely what you need, and nothing I try helps.” His voice sounds closer. You curl in on yourself and try to make yourself small, but he’s found you. He tries to bend down to touch you, but you smack his hand away and shoot daggers through his skin with your eyes. Oh, how you wish they were real and iron right now. “Dirk, please.” He frowns. “I wanted to help, but I can’t.”

“I know you can’t. I’m beyond help.”

“Dirk-”

“I’m fucked up. I’m fucked up, and I don’t know why because you took away my FUCKING MEMORIES!” You glare at him, teeth placed together in an angry scowl. “You haven’t helped me a bit. You’ve made it worst. You’ve made everything worse by use of faerie spells and tricks, which you once said you despised using.”

“I do despise using them.”

“THEN WHY USE THEM?” You yell before curling back up into a ball. “I thought- I thought you cared for me- f-for humans.” You hate how weak you sound. You wish you could cut your own throat with the rocks that are scattered around this tree, but he'd prevent you from doing so and probably put you into another daze, like he's done before. “I thought you were different, Jake, but you twist words like every one of your kind and nothing you say really means anything to you.” You look up at him then, tears running down your cheeks. “Release me.”

His eyes widen. “Release you? I can’t-“

“RELEASE ME!” You grab onto the sharpened bark of his shoulders. They cut into your hands and draw blood, so he pushes you off and onto the ground. You huff and continue. “I won’t attempt to kill myself ever again. Life without you will be bright again. I’m fact, it’ll be peachy fucking keen.”

He deflates at your words. “You- you think that?” He says, and you nod. “You’re-“ He scowls then, and his eyes grow keen. You’ve never seen them so sharp before. “Dirk Strider.” He shakes his head and grins, maple syrup dripping off of his sharpened bark teeth. “You’re never leaving me, my foolish firefly. You’re mine.” He tilts his head. “Forever.”

Your breath hitches. “You said- You said you’d keep me u-until I’m happy again, and then-“

“And then?” He laughs. “And then what?” Your mouth falls open in shock. How stupid are you? “Oh, I know that look. Don’t be so harsh on yourself, my darling, you never had a choice but to stay! Come on now, let’s go back.”

You stare at him. You stare at his eyes. They’re so sharp, but they’re also scared. Your eyes have looked that exact same way in the past. You're sure they probably look like that now, too. “I thought you loved me.”

His eyes go a bit softer at that. “I-” Neither of you have ever said it to each other. You never wanted to because you never wanted to see him struggle to work his way around the phrase. You wanted to keep living in an illusion, you guess, the illusion that everything was okay, but it never was. It never will be. You’re only human, and he’s all fae.

“I do love you, Dirk Strider.” He says softly, and you’re a bit taken back. “I- I can’t let you leave. I want you, and I want you safe forever. Fuck-” He shakes his head as if he could shake the magic out of his words. “I want you with me, I’d never hurt you like they will. Have!” He grabs your hands, and you try to pull them back, but he’s stronger. He always has been. You’re basically a doll to him. “I took your memories. I took your things. I took all traces of the bad things that I could because I wanted to give you better, but I couldn’t take away the damage they’ve done to you, my firefly, and I can’t- I can’t give you the love you need. My love isn’t like you humans. Human love is so pure and sweet, but ours is just-” He sighs. “It’s not the same, but I can’t let you leave me. I love you too much for that.”

You look at his eyes. He has to be telling the truth. There’s no way he could twist those words. “You fucking idiot.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “I love you, too.” You see him smile and shake your head. “But this won’t work. You’re right. Our love is different, but were both obsessive, clingy, and insufferable, so we have a chance.” You feel like those words sum you up perfectly, but don't even touch the base with what Jake is, but you know it's just his nature. It's not his fault. He just needs to learn, while you… you're probably stuck this way.

You push on with what you were saying, pulling yourself out of self hating thoughts. They won't do anything for you, but you have to talk to Jake. He needs to know. “You want to keep me like an object. I’m not an object, Jake. You’re fully in control of me. You keep me like a fucking pet, and you take my shit that you have no right of fucking taking.” He frowns at that, and you lick your lips before continuing, looking into his green eyes with your orange ones and refusing to avert your gaze as you speak.

“But… with you, everything’s bright. You’ve shown me a lot of love, different or not. You’ve shown me so many things, Jake, and among those things was happiness. Real happiness, something… something I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced before you came along.” He releases his grip on your hands, but you don’t let go. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and hold onto him even tighter. “This relationship isn’t healthy by normal humans terms.” You chuckle. “But I think it’s pretty good on our, a faerie and a self hating pricks, terms. Except for my memories and the control, which I think we need to work on. Immediately.” You say sternly and with a glare pointed towards him.

He smiles and nods, leaning in so that your foreheads are touching. “My name is Jake English.” He whispers. “I’ll give you back your memories in our home.” The way he says our makes you incredibly happy. It assures you that this is real and not one sided. You love each other, despite being different species and having fucked up concepts of love. “You’ll need to rest after it.” He continues and takes a deep breath. “I want to give you everything I can, Dirk. I do mean it when I say I love you, and I would never want to hurt you. I tried to do everything in your favor, but I… you’re right. I treated you like a pet, and I’m sorry. I had no right to take your memories nor keep my name from you when I had yours. It wasn't fair nor good of me.”

You nod. “Then… let’s work on our relationship.” You say softly, and he nods, closing his eyes as you talk on. “We can go back, and you can return my memories, and we can work through them, and as we do… we’ll better each other.” You can't help but smile, leaning in to nuzzle him a bit. You love his maple syrup scent. God, you love him. You're fucking addicted to the faerie that is your lover. “Jake English. I’ll teach you to be empathetic and loving without the use of faerie magic, and you… you can show me how much you love me. As a mix of faerie and human love.” 

Jake shudders at his name and happily grins, his eyes creasing at the corners. “I think that sounds dandy, my firefly. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I don’t want to use magic on you, or anyone, ever again.” 

You smile up at him, inching closer and halfway closing your eyes as he copies. “Then don’t. You don’t have to. I love you without the magic.” You lean up a bit and kiss him, moving so that you're flat against his chest. He tastes like maple syrup, as usual. He’s given you one hell of a sweet tooth over the past few months. 

Jake smiles against your lips and moves to pick you up comfortably in his arms. From there, the two of you go back to his home, which is inside a maple tree glamoured to look average on the outside but huge on the inside. 

Once there, he lays you in your shared bed and places his fingers at your temple. It's sudden and painful as a wave of memories crash through your skull and nestle into your brain where they belong. You sigh afterwards, shuddering. “Thank you, Jake English.” You say tiredly, displaying all of your trust for him in one sentence.

He smiles and lays next to you. “Of course, Dirk Strider,” he kisses your forehead, “I love you.”

You drift off to those words and his arms slowly wrapping around you, and when you wake from a nightmare later on, the two of you cuddle up and talk about it as good couples are supposed to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed! I'm thinking of making this a series of oneshots that all link together, but at the same time are on their own.  
> I dunno. I'm a bad procrastinator, but I fucking love the fae. ◠‿◠


End file.
